


Where, if not with friends nor family, do we belong?

by biplanes4ladies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, Kinda, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Post-Nogitsune, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Protective Derek, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 06:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15657345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biplanes4ladies/pseuds/biplanes4ladies
Summary: Soulmate Story!!! Made up the way they know they are soulmates, so the first few paragraphs explain it.





	Where, if not with friends nor family, do we belong?

**Author's Note:**

> First one-shot!!!!! Any comments on grammar or anything else would be amazing!!! It's 3:15 in the morning right now, so please have low expectations lol :). I tried my best, I hope you dudes like it. Thank you!!!

    When it happens, there is a spark. It can be subtle or it can be overbearing, no one knows why it is the way it is. Having a soulmate meant people no longer needed to waste time on meaningless dates, nor were they forced to interact in hopes of finding the “one”. Often, a soulmate was in close proximity, very rarely did an occurrence happen where two people who were bound to fall in love, lived far apart from each other. Proximity was key.  


    No one was afraid they would not find their soulmate, that was not the fear residing in the hearts of the lonely people. No, the only fear they knew was the fear of the dark, the fear of colors indicating something other than love- for the universe could match two people, yet sometimes it made mistakes. Those mistakes came in many shapes and sizes, sometimes the universe paired a person with someone of the wrong gender, sometimes it paired them with an abuser, murderer, rapist. Those were the worse to be paired with, for you had no choice but to love them, yet deep down the both of you know that the love was both fake and forced. The universe was unforgiving, but it acknowledged the fact that even monsters want to be loved, and sometimes in their tiny, tiny hearts, there is room for one person that they can love.  


    When you meet your soulmate, the veins in your arms glow. It was a beautiful sight, many wore only short sleeved shirts in order to see the illumination in their arms. Some were sadly disappointed when they realized the person of their materialistic “dreams” was not the one the universe decreed they be with. Others ignored the signs and made love grow when the land was meant to be barren. Those who believed in fate had a hard time reckoning with the fact that their soulmate could possibly be happier with another person, one they were not meant to be with. Though it was rare, it did happen. The universe had a way of fixing itself, for if a person were to fall in love with someone they were not destined to, the relationship had little chance of surviving.  


    Sometimes people would have two soulmates, maybe even three, sometimes though, they had none. The ones who had no one, no soulmate, no lover, were referred to as “oblivioni traditæ”, the forgotten ones. People who the universe ignored, cast aside, and cast them aside by themselves. The life of the oblivioni traditæ was not a pleasant one, and often times it was not a long life. A life filled with misery and pain with the knowledge that the universe does not believe the one that completes them exists is a painful and hard life. After being labeled as such, many people had a hard time dealing with this knowledge and sought out ways to end their lives and the pain they were put through.  


    They were not the only ones the universe did dirty, for there were many who knew their relationship would be an unfortunate one. Their veins would glow, but not the color of love. When you find your soulmate, the veins in your arms light up and shine brightly. Below are the color of eternal love and the meaning they have:  


Yellow- Often the color yellow is associated with people who married their high school sweetheart. The love they share is a passion brought on by optimism for it was happy and in some cases childish.  


      White- The color white is associated closely with those who share a pure bond. Untainted, and more often than not everlasting. 98 percent of soulmates who experienced a white bond remained together until one of them died. It represents the innocence and the good found in the heart.  


      Pink- The color pink is associated closely with those who are more open to showing their sensitivity and emotional side. Those with arms of pink know the relationship they have will be built on trust, tears, and tenderness. This color is more commonly found in relationships between two women, but 42 percent are between different sexed people.  


    Purple- The color purple is associated closely with creative minds who have been bonded together. Artists like musicians, painters, and actors often find their veins turning purple. Lighter purples result as a merge between the color purple and the color pink- those relationships were very common among creative careers where the individual would bare their souls to thousand without fear of being judged. Darker purple alluded to a troubled creative mind. Many artists who suffered from mental illnesses would see both arms light up in a dark purple.  


    Ex. Sylvia Plath, George Orwell, Georgia O'Keeffe.  


    Like all things, the idea of having a set soulmate did not come without its hiccups. There were colors that no one ever wanted to see light up their arms:  
    Black- The color black is associated with evil, hatred. This color was normally found in bonds where an abuser and a victim were destined by the universe to be together. Sometimes the color was seen in high school when a bully and the bullied one would touch and their arms would glow.  


    The color black can also be associated with death. If your soulmate should die, during their last breath the color that covers your arm will be a dark black. Some experience pain in moments like this, not just in their hearts and minds but also in their veins.  


    Green- The color green is associated with greed, often it is found in relationships where one is rich and the other not as much. These relationships cause envy and jealousy to grow resulting in fake, picture-perfect families.  


    Red- The color red is associated with hate, anger, and passion. The latter, passion, refers to lust rather than to love. When red is shown, those who bear the color know the relationship is a front and the love is skin deep.  


    The colors can change, for someone who had black at first touch could have pink by their third or fourth touch. It can go the other way as well. Soulmates who first touched and saw yellow could later see the color green. People change, so do the relationships they form.  
The crimes for soulmates were tougher than any other crimes. Juries felt no pity towards abusers who claim they were allowed to do what they wanted because the other person was their soulmate. In fact, most juries are tougher on soulmate cases due to the knowledge that soulmates should be happy together, and one should never be afraid of the other. Soulmate colors did not appear when one was under stress, nor did they appear when the first touch was a punch or a slap.  


    Stiles sighed, closing his book. “Did not appear when one was under stress”, _god good, I’m always under stress, _Stiles thought.__  


    Scott was lucky, he knew who his soulmate was as soon as he saw Allison. The two had yet to touch but Scott had told him countless times, no matter what, he would find a way to end up with Allison- even if that meant defying the universe's well-intended plans for the two of them.When Allison died, everything changed. Stiles knew it, when he looked at Scott he could tell something was off with him. Scott held himself as if part of him was missing, but he came to acknowledge the fact that that was how life would be for him. This did not help Scott, yet he liked to act as though everything was okay and not like every bone in his body ached, and his heart felt heavy. Stiles could only imagine what it would be like to have your first love die in your arms, while you felt their pain running through your veins. Stiles knew Scott did everything he could to try to save Allison, everyone, even Chris, knew Scott tried his best- but Scott liked to think otherwise.  


    When Chris and Isaac left, Scott truly fell apart, and the only one there to help pick up the pieces was Stiles. Stiles, who still felt responsible for her death and the emotional collapse of his once best friend.  


    The two were still friends, but Stiles could not be in a room with Scott for more than 15 minutes before all his past actions began to weigh down on him. The weight on his shoulders, forcing him to draw into himself and away from society. Scott forgave him, he never blamed Stiles in the first place, but Stiles was not ready to forgive himself- he wasn’t sure he ever would be ready. That scared him, more than all the bullshit about soulmates, the idea of carrying this weight to the grave with him was too great to bear.  


    The pack was never the same after that fateful night, Stiles drifted further from them while they floated closer together. He no longer felt as though he was part of the pack, nor did he feel like he had any friends.  


    Stiles was okay with being alone, even if being alone meant he had no one to hold the weight with him. The weight that was crushing him, his ribs were crushed under the weight that he carried, sometimes it became too much and Stiles would forget to breathe. Everything felt like a punishment, and Stiles was both relieved and miserable because of it. His body felt heavy and his movements felt rigged and forced. Every day seemed like too much, and every night was.  


    The night was something Stiles always met with dread. It was the equivalent of seeing someone you disliked at school and then being partnered up with them- for 6/7 hours on a good day or 3/4 hours on a bad day- for the rest of your life. Yet it wasn’t as much of a dislike as a disdain. He lacked any respect for his mind during the night and held it in contempt. His life was a nightmare when he was awake, did it need to be when he was asleep?  


    Recently though, Stiles' heart felt lighter and his bones were not as heavy. Isaac and Chris had returned, when a few monsters found their way to Beacon Hills and inevitably decided the area seemed like a decent place to attack and destroy.  


    Stiles was there when it happened, he always offered to help, but never attended any group meetings after. He would do his job and then leave, he was unworthy of the people he once called his friends. Stiles knew that sometimes, when he moved too fast, Lydia would flinch- even if she across the room and nowhere near him.  


    During the fight, too much was happening at once, but Stiles knew it was always like that- even to the supernatural. The fight seemed to both drawn on and end in a matter of seconds,. It wasn't until the end of the fight that Stiles located Scott. Scott stood tensely, slowly retracting his claws before offering to help Isaac up. Stiles saw Isaac take a hard hit, not once but twice in a matter of minutes. The first punch, Stiles saw Isaac shrug it off, the second one, however, seemed to be triple the force and knocked Isaac straight to the ground.  


    Scott stuck his hand out to help Isaac up, and that’s when it happened. Their veins lit up, bright white liquid started to flow through their veins and the two laughed.  


    Stiles could not recall the last time he heard Scott laugh like that. It was the happy and carefree laugh Scott had before the whole werewolf thing. The laugh that left Scott too early, the laugh that never graced the ears of Stiles nor his mother since that fateful night.  


    Stiles was thrown back mentally when he heard the laugh that escaped Scott. In a blink of an eye, Stiles was in eighth grade, watching his lanky, awkward, best friend stalk across the hall, over to his crushes locker, before tripping over his untied shoelace. Scott turned and looked at him, on the floor, half a foot away from his crush, and the two of them laughed. Of course, Scott would wait to embarrass himself until he was directly in eyesight of the one he liked. It was a good memory, one Stiles would like to remember forever, and one he would never give up.  


    After the fighting, Stiles headed home, not before being eyed down by Derek that was. If Stiles was in a better mood, he would have made some joke about how Derek should take a picture, or if he was going to stare at him like that he should at less buy him dinner. But Stiles was never in a better mood, he never found himself in a mood even relatively good.  


    It concerned his dad at first when Stiles stopped talking as much, going out, laughing, and sleeping. Thinking about, Stiles could not name one area of his life that remained unaffected after what happened with the nogitsune, and it was Hell. Actually, Hell was probably paradise when compared to what happened and was currently happening to Stiles. He knew better than to tell his dad this though, for fear of worrying him. Noah still made him go to the doctors and talk about what was happening. They diagnosed him with manic depression, Stiles wished it was that easy but he knew the truth. He knew the truth and he knew that he could not tell anyone for they would think he lost his mind. Maybe he was losing his mind, he was losing everything else in life- his friends, his family, his social life, and sleep, why not add another item to the list?  


    The doctors told him he would have his highs and his lows and said his mood acted like a rollercoaster- with really high hills and very low dips. However, if his dips got any lower, the rollercoaster would be touching the ground.  


    _Too much thinking, time to bring yourself back to the present._ But wasn’t the present such an awful time to be in? No hope for the future, fear of the past, stuck in the middle, all alone. It was for Stiles.  


    He tossed the book aside, onto the stack of clothes he had been neglecting to wash for the past three weeks. Sighing, he walked over to his bed and prepared himself for a night full of terrors- just like every night for the past year or so.

    He was always running in his dreams, but he never moved. His legs were moving but the area around him remained the same. Always running, always on the move, yet always in the same place- never moving in any direction.

Stiles woke up to a soft noise in his room that sounded close to humming. Ever since, well, everything, Stiles had become a light sleeper- both a burden and a gift. A burden due to the fact that sometimes when Stiles woke up, he could not fall back asleep. The tiredness added extra weight to his body, some days it took everything in Stiles to not fall apart, to get up and try to be productive. Yet, it was a gift because Stiles, like many others in his position (or a position close to his), would rather be woken up by a noise in the room instead of by a night terror.  


    Night terrors were hard on Stiles, for they were too real, they hit too close to home. Multiple times he dreamed of his dad blaming him for his mother’s death, this dream slowly morphed into Scott whereas Stiles’ mom was replaced by Allison.  


    Stiles looked around the room, only to be met with bright blue eyes.  


    “Oh,” Stiles muttered unsurprised.  


    “Oh?”  


    “Well, do you want me to say something else? This isn’t your first time showing up uninvited if you want a more dramatic reaction we can redo this. You can go back out the window, I’ll fake sleep and we can take it from the top.”  


    “Haha, aren’t you clever?” Derek replied, sarcastically.  


    Normally Stiles would love to banter back and forth with the sourwolf, but today was not the day. It had not been the day for quite a while now, but Stiles liked to take it one week at a time. Constantly reminding himself that he only had one more week to go before he would feel better, but he told himself this every week for the past several weeks, and every time he said it, he could feel the words slowly lose meaning.  


    Stiles decided on nodding, rather than replying verbally- it was easier and only took half the energy to do. He rolled over in bed, closed his eyes, and hoped that maybe Derek could take a hint.  


    “Why haven’t you been attending the pack meetings?”  


    _Seriously? What time is it? Doesn’t Derek have better things to do than bother me? _Stiles thought with little to no heat. He didn’t mind really, in fact, he was quite lonely and talking to someone- even though it was only a few sentences he spits out- made him feel a little better. Stiles sighed, louder than necessary, and turned back around -__  


    “Holy shit, Derek!”  


    Stiles quickly sat up, but accidentally placed his right hand too close on the edge of the bed. His hand slipped off the bed, but Derek caught him.  
_Stupid werewolf reflexes, _Stiles thought.__  


    After turning his back to Derek a few minutes ago, Derek decided to stand so close to the bed he was basically sharing the bed with Stiles. That was Derek’s thing though, Stiles wasn’t sure if Derek had noticed it was or not yet. Whenever Derek was talking to someone, he would slowly navigate his body closer and closer to theirs. It was a weird trait, one Stiles used to like- until now that is. His heart was still beating out of his chest, he felt as though he just had a heart attack and a panic attack (back-to-back). He breathed in and out, just like his therapist had taught him when he was younger until his body and heart calmed down. He sighed, finally relaxing.  
Stiles wondered how close Derek truly was when he freaked out. The thought made him realize that Derek was still holding onto his hand. Looking down at their connected hands, Stiles knew why. Blue. Bright blue light, blue like Derek’s alpha eyes lit up the veins on his arms.  


    Blue, one of the colors so rare, they never mention it in the outdated school books. Less than 1 percent of the population have a soulmate with blue light. Blue- truth, peace, stability, harmony, eternity. Blue was the only color light that could never change, minus turning black due to death. It indicated a relationship that was everlasting, and happy. A relationship that combined all the good things from the other lights and packed them into one little present for two soulmates to share.  


    Stiles let out a tiny laugh, he felt light and happy. Happy for the first time in who knows how long. He looked up to catch the look on Derek’s face and was surprised not to see total disgust. While Stiles knew that he and Derek had grown closer together, he knew the two were not besties.  


    “I- wow,” Derek said.  


    “Yeah.”  


    The two watched as the blue slowly faded and the light died down. Stiles scooted over on his bed, making room for Derek to join - if he pleased that was. Derek didn’t even acknowledge Stiles, his body acted on instinct as he sat down next to Stiles and wrapped his arms around him. Derek had a smile on his face, it was small, but it was there and that was all that mattered at this moment. Derek’s eyes caught Stiles’,  


    “Sleep,” he said.  


    Stiles smiled and closed his eyes, leaning his head on Derek's shoulder softly. His life was not completely fixed, it may never be completely fixed- but he finally had someone to help hold up the weight with him. His shoulders did not feel as heavy, and his rib cage was not being crushed under the invisible pressure he had to deal with every day by himself. For once, he could breathe, he could breathe and there was no pain.


End file.
